The Fine Art of Failing
by NotYourAverageSchoolgirl
Summary: Ginny Weasley is convinced that she's failing in general when it comes to life, most notably in the relationship category. When her well-meaning brother Ron convinces Harry Potter to tutor her in Potions, will things start looking up?
1. Default Chapter

**Ah yes, I decided to put up another Harry/Ginny fic, just because I missed the pairing a little. Quite honestly, thus far, I'm not quite as satisfied with this first chapter as I was with "Divine Intervention", but hmm... I like the story so far, and I hope you do too!**

**And if it's a bit cliched, I hope you will forgive me, because, after all, this is fluffy fanfiction. **

**So read, and if you like, review. I'm not sure if this will be well-received, so review so I know whether or not to continue.**

**Thank you much!**

"Come on Mikey," she coaxed, trying to keep the panic from her voice as she set a glass of water in front of the little four-year-old boy, "Rinse out your mouth for Ginny!"

The boy complied, grabbing at the glass of water as he swayed from side to side. "Ginny," he groaned, paling slightly, "I feel sick."

Oh, how had this happened?

One moment, she had been babysitting the child, and the next she had fallen asleep on the couch. It really wasn't her fault; she had been up the previous night reviewing for Potions before she came back to school after Christmas vacation.

And the next thing she knew, she had been rudely awakened by the sound of breaking glass. On following the sound, she had found, to her horror, that little Mikey had found his way into his father's liquor cabinet and was now in the process of downing a bottle of, well, she wasn't sure.

But for certain, it wasn't a good thing when a four-year-old got into the liquor cabinet and started drinking unidentifiable substances.

And so, doing the only rational thing she could think of, she had wrenched the bottle from his hand, set it back in the cabinet, cleaned up the broken glass from some other bottle of wine (while praying that he hadn't had a drink out of that one too) and brought him into the bathroom and was now in the process of cleaning the boy up.

"Please tell me its just apple juice," she muttered to herself.

Much to her dismay, no matter how many times she cleaned out his mouth, the vacant look in his eyes and the slurring of his words still gave away the fact that something was wrong with him.

Oh lord.

And the Raesfelds would be home any moment now.

As if reading her thoughts, two loud pops sounded from the other room, and she didn't need to look to know that Mikey's parents had just apparated home.

"Ginny? Mikey, darling?" Mrs. Raesfeld called out, her shrill voice echoing throughout the house.  
  
And despite her protests, Mikey struggled out of Ginny's grip and ran over to his mother, zigzagging across the room as he called out, "Mummy!"

The woman gasped, rushing over to gather her son, demanding, "What's wrong, darling?!"

Needless to say, the evening did not end well.

In fact, as Ginny trudged up to her room, she sighed glumly.

How, how could anyone possibly fail at babysitting? It wasn't exactly the most difficult thing to do- yet she had lost her job anyway.

"Oy," she groaned, flopping onto her bed. Her arm came in contact with some glossy photographs strewn about, and she turned onto her side to look at them.

Ah, pictures of Ben.

With one swift movement, she swept all the pictures off of the bed.

Stupid boys.

She really had the worst luck with them, and she was beginning to suspect that they were all insensitive, hormone-driven pigs.

Climbing off of her bed, she made her way over to her closet, fishing around until she pulled out, with grim triumph, a shoebox with bold letters proclaiming "PAST boyfriends" on it. The "past" part was capitalized, for emphasis. She rolled her eyes, crawling over to gather up the photographs. She paused for a moment, looking at the boy, smiling happily in one photo, blowing her a kiss in one photo, and in the one that made her snort with derision, mouthing, "I love Ginny."

"Oh yeah," she told the photo angrily, before tossing it into the box, "That's exactly why I found you snogging the brains out of some fourth year, hmm?"

Like she had said, insensitive, hormone-driven pigs.

After putting every last photo into the shoebox, along with some mementos (the hideous zebra striped socks he had bought her, which at the time she had considered an "adorable" gesture), she shut it, stacking it neatly into the closet with her other shoeboxes.

She regarded the boxes marked by year at Hogwarts (first year, second year... all the way up to sixth year, the box she was still filling as the year progressed) and smiled with satisfaction. They were so neatly marked! One day, if she wanted to scrapbook her whole Hogwarts experience, she would only need to come into this closet and grab the boxes categorized by year and open them up. Inside those boxes were envelopes filled with pictures, each envelope marked with the event and date.

That was the way she liked it- neat and orderly.

Too bad her life was nothing like her closet.

She noted, with a slight frown, that there had never been a "present boyfriend" box. She'd never been with any one boy long enough for that to occur. Ah if only she could mope away forever, staring out the window at the bleak, gray sky.

But she had things to do.

Namely, studying for Potions.

She groaned, getting up reluctantly and shuffling over to her desk where she gazed down at the heavy Potions book with dread. She was only failing the subject because Snape was out to make her life miserable! Yes that evil, evil man was, well, the epitome of evil!

Evil, evil, evil...

It made her twitch just thinking about him.

But, she had to study sometime, or she'd end up a failure in life. Actually, the way her parents described it to her, she'd end up a vagrant on some street corner in muggle London, living off meat from any stray cat she could catch.

And although exaggerated, she had to admit that the image was not a pleasant one. So she opened the book, lay on her stomach on her bed, and began reading about the properties of some potion or another.

In three minutes flat she was asleep.

The next morning, she trudged downstairs with the sinking feeling that, unfortunately, there were only two more days until she boarded the Hogwarts Express and returned to Snape's class of doom. She didn't mind all of the other classes quite as much- in fact; she had fairly decent marks in most of her classes. But ugh, that one class made her life absolutely miserable, and she wasn't looking forward to returning.

Besides, with the swarms of teenage males at school, she was bound to find yet another dud clinging to her arm, only to realize later that he was snogging some fourth year behind her back.

Yes, she was still a little resentful about that.

The whole family, plus one Harry Potter was downstairs, already eating breakfast. Hermione was at her own home this Christmas, much to Ron's disappointment.

"Hi," she mumbled, running a hand through her rumpled hair.

She was relieved when her parents looked up to give her sympathetic smiles, but said nothing. Apparently, they had thought it better not to mention her, err, now jobless state, and she was glad. Really, imagine how much worse the breakfast conversation could be.

_"Ginny dear, Mikey didn't have a hangover from last night, did he?"_

The thought of her mother even saying that made her snort in amusement.

Sitting down, she grabbed a plate and happily filled it with scrambled eggs and bacon. Really, breakfast food always made her feel better. What could be better than the fatty goodness of bacon, or the cholesterol-laden joy that eggs brought?

As she munched away, once in a while pausing to take a swig of orange juice, Mrs. Weasley bustled in with more food. "Ginny darling," she said warmly, giving her daughter a pat on the head. "How's that boyfriend you wrote home about? I forgot to ask you, with all this holiday excitement."

Ginny nearly choked on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

After swallowing, with some difficulty, she looked up and gave her mother a wan smile.

"Well," she explained. "He's not my boyfriend anymore. He's a stupid git who should be flushed down a toilet and..."

She paused, seeing the disapproving look on both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's faces.

"I mean," she amended, "He's a horrible person. And," she added, on seeing that they both were still frowning slightly, "I won't kill him, or torture him in any way."

Her mother beamed proudly at her, "That's my girl," she patted Ginny's head fondly, "Not taking after your violent brothers, I see."

Ron had looked up with interest the moment Ginny had said those four words- "he's not my boyfriend"- and was now waiting for his turn to speak.

"So," he grinned at his little sister in a way she found rather disconcerting, "You're single now, are you?"

For some reason, he nudged a very confused Harry as he said this.

"Um, yeah," she replied, "That's what I said."  
  
They returned to their breakfasts, Ginny once again becoming reacquainted with her good friends, bacon and eggs.

That is, until Mr. Weasley put his newspaper down abruptly and looked at her. "Ginny," he said, frowning slightly.

Again? What was with everyone and frowning at her today, anyway?

"Are you doing better in Potions?"

Oh. Okay, that made sense.

She sheepishly shook her head slightly, muttering in reply, "I'm trying; I really am! It's just a very difficult class for me..."

Her father frowned again, but soon enough, he brightened up. "I know," he suggested, "You could be tutored by someone."

Hermione, Ginny thought, would certainly help her. And she'd certainly learn quite a bit from the girl.

But for some reason, before she could even agree, Ron had jumped up and joined the conversation excitedly. "Harry could tutor her!"

All eyes at the table stared at him dubiously.

"Me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you serious, mate? Haven't you noticed the marks I've gotten in Potions for the past, oh, almost seven years? Wouldn't it be better for Hermione to tutor her, or something?"

Ginny really had to agree with the boy.

"Oh it's fine," her brother replied dismissively, "It doesn't matter what marks you got. I mean, she's a year younger, so you should already know all the material she's covering, right?"

"Err..." Harry ran a hand through his hair, baffled by his best friend's behavior, "I suppose. But Hermione would know the material too..."

Ron seemed frustrated by this. Secretly, so that no one else at the table would see, he kicked Harry's shin.

Harry gave a hiss of pain and shot his friend a resentful look, but finally grudgingly agreed with him. "Sure," he muttered, rubbing his shin, "I could tutor Ginny. I mean," he added sarcastically, "Ron apparently thinks I'll be so much better at this than Hermione."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, though obviously a little dubious about Harry's skills in Potions class, smiled gratefully.

Ginny looked confused by the whole situation but smiled a bewildered little smile at Harry, murmuring, "Thanks Harry. That'd be great. I think," she addressed to everyone as she stood up with her empty plate, "I'm going upstairs to shower."

Well, she thought as she climbed upstairs, this would certainly be interesting.

After breakfast, Harry tugged Ron into his room, demanding, "What in the world are you doing?"

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, feigning innocence, which, unfortunately, was not one of his strong points. His wide-eyed inquisitive look came out more as a bug-eyed stare.

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the strange expression on his friend's face. It was plain creepy, if you asked him. "Why do you want me to tutor Ginny anyway?"

Ron sighed, trying to look pitiful. "Look mate, it's my sister, and I care for her. She needs help in school, and," he continued, sounding sickeningly sappy, "I really don't want her to fail. I just want you to help her out."

Harry looked unconvinced. "Um Ron?" he reminded. "I'm terrible in Potions, remember? It's my worst subject, mate! She'll fail even more miserably if she's got me teaching her. Why would you pick me of all people to tutor her?"

Ron shrugged, pausing in contemplation for a moment (which Harry had to admit, was rare). Suddenly, his face lit up as he came up with the answer. "You know," he replied smugly, "How you're not doing so well in Potions? Well Hermione always says that the best way to learn is to teach someone, right? So you'll be learning too!" He grinned triumphantly.

"Okay," Harry agreed grudgingly, still unconvinced by his friend's argument. But as for the whole learning through teaching thing- he couldn't really find anything wrong with that. And, although he was still a little worried that he'd make an absolutely miserable teacher- he had certainly warned Ron.

"Splendid!" Ron grinned, slapping his friend on the back happily. "You two can start this afternoon!"

And what's going to happen," Harry pondered under his breath, "Now that Ron's taken an interest in both mine and Ginny's education?"

It was a question, unbeknownst to him at the moment, that both he and Ginny would spend the next few months exploring.


	2. That Devious Ron

**I'm so sorry it took me so long to update this! I just don't like this fic very much... But I know I should finish it for you guys, and I will, so no worries! This is a little short, so I'm so sorry about that, but it just didn't flow at all. **

**It's been busy at school (bad excuse, I know), and I'm taking so many honors classes and I have newspaper (two hours after school a day) and I have red cross (six hours per week, at least), and I'm going insane, I think. For the past _two_ weeks I haven't gotten more than 5 hours of sleep a night (LITERALLY, I swear) beside the weekends, and I'm starting to stress out way too much. But on the bright side- I'm doing well in AP American Lit! Yay for me... Newspaper's fantastic, so much work, but so worth it! And I'm learning layout and I UNDERSTAND the software... And I LOVE philosophy, it's so interesting. Hooray for Aristotle; not so hooray for Immanuel Kant. Anyways. **

**Thank you so much for your support! You're wonderful, wonderful reviewers all of you. Many thanks to OexpectopatronumO, harryandginnyforever, Rayah Papaya, sunni07, Chantal J, Allimba, Raiining, Empty Light, Shinegami's Little Sis, ZayneLily, Kathy, elvengirl9, VoicezWithin, Riina, and insertgoodnamehere. **

**JamieBell- Ah, I love you dearly! Thanks for reviewing this... even though it took me so long to update. HOw's school going for you? **

**Emily T- LOL. Well I'm glad you laughed in the last chapter. Sometimes, I'm so afraid that my attempts at humor will go unnoticed. Anyway, thank you for your review!**

**Tweek's Panda- Haha, I LOVE that phrase "cries big crocodile tears". I think random phrases are the funniest things in the world; I'm such a dork. Anyways, thank you for your review! **

**Kingmaker- Ah you! Hello. Anyway, here is yet another chapter. I honestly have no idea what's going on with this story. Hope you read it and like it! Oh yes, and in response to your review of my sad little one-shot: I solemnly swear that I will never write angst again (or at least not post it). Okay? I pinky swear! D!**

**SnakeEyesHannah- I'm so SORRY. I never realized how LONG ago the first chapter was posted. Wow... anyways, hopefully I'll redeem myself if I start updating more often. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Leoking- Of course! What would I do without your reviews? Anyway, I don't know what's going on with this story. I agree though; it's not very well planned out, and it's just a spontaneous bit of fluff. Thanks for your review.**

**I love my reviewers. **

"I hate you!" Ginny yowled as she pounded against the closed and locked door. "I hate you, Ronald Weasley, and the moment I get out of here, I'm going to hex you all the way to the moon!"

To this, she received a startled yelp (for even Ron was not immune to his sister's threats) and a timid, "Ginny, you need to study."

And then he walked away (she knew because she had her head pressed up against the door and after a while, her threats went unanswered.)

Ginny slumped down to the floor, exhausted from her violent thumping on the door. "I hate him," she mumbled unnecessarily, evoking a sympathetic nod from one Harry Potter.

"Hey," he murmured sympathetically, hands shoved into his pockets as he shuffled to and fro, unsure of how to deal with the _very_ violent, and apparently volatile female before him. "I'm not too happy with him right now either."

Of course you're not happy! He just grabbed us by our sleeves while we were eating lunch, shoved us into a room, and locked us in. And he says he won't let us out for the next five hours! What a bloody git...

"Yes!" she exclaimed, her head snapping up as she looked at Harry with, wild, animated eyes. "We'll both escape from this room and chase after him, tie him up on top of the roof and let a hoard of rabid Slytherins at him, and then stand back and cackle as they tear him to shreds!"

She looked eagerly at Harry expecting him to nod enthusiastically and start planning with her right away.

Instead, he was staring at her with wide, wide eyes, mouth partially open in shock as he nervously inched backwards.

Okay, so maybe I was a bit over-enthusiastic there.

"That's..." Harry chuckled nervously as he continued to back away, searching for the right word, "Erm... sadistic."

Ginny blushed madly, giggling as she tried to play it off as if she weren't, well, quite so homicidal. "Oh Harry," she laughed in a high-pitched voice, "You know I was just joking. I would _never_ try to kill Ron, no matter _how_ tempting it may be and _how _much of a bloody prat he's been."

Needless to say, Harry did not look convinced as he shuffled backwards once more.

"Right," he stated without much conviction. "Right."

"So," Ginny continued, trying desperately to sound sane, "Apparently, thanks to my oh-so-wonderful older brother, we're going to be in here together for five hours."

Harry nodded, finally opting to sit down instead of shuffle about nervously.

If she's going to kill me, it's not as if I can escape from this room anyway.

"So," he remarked, running a hand through his hair as he wrinkled his nose at the Potions book in his lap (certainly _not_ his favorite subject), "Do you want to study then? I'm not the best teacher, but I can try."

She smiled- a true genuine smile and not an evil sadistic grin- at his offer, much to his relief, but shook her head. "Potions? You expect me to spend the last day of my Christmas holidays reading my Potions book?" She snorted derisively, "Honestly Harry, only Hermione would do that."

"And that," he decided to risk his life and tease her lightly, "Is exactly why she's passing the class, unlike a certain stubborn red-headed girl."

She scowled at him, her mouth setting itself into a stubborn pout. "You're mean," she grumbled, half-heartedly tossing her quill at his head.

Thankfully, with his great Seeker reflexes, he managed to duck before his forehead became a dartboard.

_For someone who isn't even trying, she has great aim_, he admitted to himself grudgingly as he watched the quill whiz past his head, going right through the spot in space where his scar had been seconds before.

"Oy," he muttered to himself, blinking as the quill hit the wall behind him. He glanced up at Ginny who was still sulking considerably, "Trying to kill me, are you?"

Here, she at least smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, biting her lip slightly as she glanced over at her quill, lying on the floor behind Harry. "It was just... I felt like throwing things."

"Maybe," he suggested with a chuckle. "You should save that for later; say, when Ron comes back to let us out, for example."

The wide grin that spread across Ginny's face was enough to let him know that she _definitely_ approved of his plan.

"Potions," he reminded her desperately, trying to draw her away from her violent tendencies. "Remember? You're failing Potions."

Her smile immediately fell, and for a moment, he almost felt guilty for reminding her of her grade.

"I don't care about Potions," she finally sighed sulkily, crossing her arms as she slumped against the door.

Yet a mere forty-five minutes later, she found herself seated at the table and absolutely _compelled _by the wondrous facts that flowed forth from the Potions textbook.

Well, maybe that was a stretch.

But she was certainly compelled by the way Harry gestured when he explained a certain potion to her, or how he would ruffle his hair in frustration when she shook her head dazedly.

No I don't understand... No I don't really care... But please, do continue.

She soon became aware of the fact that her mouth was partially open and _drool_ was dripping its way out of one corner of her mouth. In horror, she quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of her sweater, hoping that Harry hadn't noticed.

Honestly Ginny, for shame! Remember the greats in the women liberation movement. Wouldn't they be disappointed in you now?

...But Harry's adorable. And nice! You like Harry, remember?

_But he's a boy! A boy, Ginny! An evil pig only out to corrupt your innocent mind..._

And so her inner battle raged.

Yet on the surface, she was a serene, redheaded girl, her lips turned upwards in a little smile as she sat across from Harry. Granted, the smile was a bit _strained_, but considering the inner battle she was struggling to control, her calm demeanor was quite impressive.

Harry glanced at her glazed over eyes, her blank expression and sighed. "You're not listening to a thing I say, are you?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Ginny blushed, shaking her head vehemently. "No, no, of course not!" she denied guiltily, "Only those things pertaining to Potions..."

He chuckled in reply, closing the Potions book. "Well, I knew that I wasn't going to be much help," he remarked, looking at the book with distaste, "So what do you want to talk about?"

She glanced at the clock.

One hour had passed. This was brilliant, just brilliant. Ron was going to die a very brutal death when she got out of this room; she would make certain that he did.

"Well," she replied, rolling her eyes as she threw her hands up in mock despair, "It looks like we'll be in here for at least another four hours. So would you like to discuss?"

Apparently, Harry was not one given to awkward silences. Immediately, he flashed her a playful grin and ruffled his hair.

Must...not...give into raging teenage hormones.

_Come on Ginny, breath. There's no good to be found in tackling him to the ground and snogging his brains out._

"Well," he remarked, oblivious to Ginny's inner turmoil. "I could tell you my life story, but I suppose you've already heard that. Although you've probably heard about three million different versions, with what those magazines are publishing," he rolled his eyes, chuckling. "I'm sure you've heard how that one tabloid claimed that I was the supposed Messiah _and _son of Voldemort's good twin. What kind of people read that garbage?"

She giggled, then stopped, blushing.

Shoot. I'd better get rid of my secret stash of Ghoulish Gossip then.

"Of course," she added, bursting into giggles when he frowned, "Haven't you heard the one that claims that after you graduate, you're going to start your own religion in which you worship house elves?"

The horrified expression on his face told her that no, he had most certainly not.

"What?" he sputtered, "Why would they say that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I think it had something to do with the fact that your best friend started SPEW, and so..." she stifled a giggle with her hand. "They assumed that you were very, erm, passionate about that as well."

"I like house elves," he protested, "But not enough to worship them!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Or the one where you're engaged to Hermione and she's pregnant with your lovechild?"  
The poor boy looked as if he would faint any moment.

"What?!" he shook his head, making a disgusted face. "She's like a sister to me! And besides, she and Ron are madly in love. What kind of people spread these, these horrible lies?"

"I don't know." Ginny shuddered. Now that she thought about it, that particular rumor was rather disturbing. Harry and Hermione?  
She shook her head.

No, no, no, no, no!

"You're right," she blurted out, shaking her head vehemently. "You and Hermione don't go together well at all. I don't know what people are thinking!"

"Well," he asked thoughtfully in response to her outburst. "Who do you think I go well with, then?"

And for the first time since she'd been locked in that room, Ginny Weasley found herself speechless.


	3. Freedom and the Impending Death of Ron

**I know it's been forever, and I'm so terribly sorry, but finally I have another chapter up for my darling reviewers! Yay, consider it a little present as we drudge through the horrible thing that is school. Not that school's that terrible, but still. I'm missing sleep, and eating so much less (it's downright unhealthy, I don't have time for breakfast _or_ lunch anymore) and it's having icky effects. 1) Perpetually bloodshot/bleary eyes, which is quite a shame, becauseI positively _love_ my eyes, 2) I'm losing more hair in the shower! That makes me quite sad, and 3) I'm sleep deprived enough to bite people. Consider them "love bites". Really. **

**Kehehe. Anyways, teachers are being absolute Nazis. Honestly; for journalism alone, I have an article to write (three drafts in a week, and don't forget the interview and research!), an editorial on current events, and a review, all due next week! Oh the joy. And my 20 page critical research paper for AP American Lit! Whoohoo! Actually, in a dorky kind of way, I'm excited because I _loved_ The Turn of the Screw and am looking forward to writing a long paper on sexual repression and how it can make you see ghosts. Really. **

**Thank you to my wonderful reviewers, and have a lovely year! I'll try to update when I can (I promise! Oh guess what?! I'm getting my class ring next month! It's really really lovely. White gold with a pink stone- oooh!). Ahem. Back to thanking my reviewers.**

**Many smothering hugs and kisses to: hawkeyessabre, Rebekahek623, cherryblossom08, BrownPryde, Ms. Realista, Annmarie Aspasia, Chantal J, sunni07, Shinegami's Little Sis, and Alexandrea!**

**elvengirl9- Ah thank you so much for reviewing! Well, we'll see how Ginny handles this, eh? She's a smart girl, she'll figure out a way to answer Harry that won't make her look like a complete idiot. Really. Now you'll just have to read on to see just how sarcastic I was being.**

**JamieBell- (gasps at your long review) Thaaanks! I'm so happy that my work makes you laugh- anything to make my reviewers happy! That's so hilarious that Ginny's embarrassing moments remind you of your own. Of course though, who among us _hasn't_ stared in awe at a gorgeous boy without listening to a thing he's saying? Ahem. Yeah... (relives some moments of her own) **

**Tru Lys- Thank you for all your support! Oh yes, I am stressing, but I'll live. Anyways, glad you like my portrayal of Ginny! Think of it as... a fond memory of myself a few years back. (Was I the girl who ran around with a pencil, threatening to stab any boy who dared mess with me? You betcha! Gotta love middle school... honestly) **

**Kingmaker- Haha, thanks for you review. I'm really glad you like my portrayal of Ginny and the women's lib references. Of course, of course. And Ginny's violent streak (sigh), what can I say? I was once quite the violent one myself. Ask any boy I went to school with. Ever. **

**Okay folks, now if you remember, in the last chapter, Harry asked Ginny who she thought he would go well with... and now we have our beloved Ginny's answer! Read, enjoy, and _please_ do review! **

"I think," Ginny managed to squeak out, painfully aware that she was turning very, very red, "That... you'd go well with..."

She stalled, wildly glancing around the unfortunately rather empty room for something to distract Harry. "Oh look!" she pointed excitedly at the first thing she saw, which unfortunately, was a rather unexciting piece of fuzz that her sweater had shed onto the desk. "Isn't that amazing?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "What tells me you're avoiding my question altogether?"

_Fine, so I admit, that was a pathetic attempt._

"Nothing!" she chirpily responded, flashing him a wide, fake smile. "I just find sweater fuzz particularly intriguing!"

_...And if possible, that was even worse than just telling the truth._

Ginny groaned, spontaneously banging her forehead against the desk.

_Why am I so strange?_

Watching her, Harry burst into chuckles. "Sweater fuzz?" he asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "That's the best you could do; sweater fuzz?!"

She slowly raised her head from the table, biting her lower lip as she met his eyes, which were, unsurprisingly, sparkling with amusement.

"Well," he met her gaze expectantly. "Who do you think I'd go well with?"

She shrugged, averting her eyes quickly.

_Wonderful, Ginny. Now you look even more suspicious._

Finally, desperate to respond with anything, just anything that was at least a bit plausible, Ginny steeled herself, stubbornly met an unsuspecting Harry Potter's gaze, and curtly snapped, "I really don't care to even give that much thought, Harry. I never thought you'd be the kind of person to actually buy into that romance nonsense."

As soon as it left her lips, she regretted being so, well, harsh.

Harry stared back at her with wide, hurt eyes.

_Gorgeously green eyes. Big... pretty... sparkling..._

_...But you idiot! They're sad, confused eyes!_

She bit her lip, looking down guiltily. That little nagging thing that was her conscience was really working overtime at the moment.

_How could you? Look, you made the poor boy cry!_

She whipped her head up wildly to look at him.

In actuality, Harry's eyes were most certainly dry at the moment.

_No, you lying conniving little inner voice! The boy's merely confused!_

And confused he was.

One moment, Ginny had been joking around lightly with him (or so he thought), and then she had suddenly gotten very quiet, and now she was out to kill him apparently.

And the frightening thing was that he didn't doubt her violent capabilities at all.

But right now, with her head bowed, chewing at her lower lip ashamedly, she didn't look particularly dangerous.

In fact- Harry had to fight the silly grin that was threatening to spread across his face as he watched her fret- she looked downright adorable.

Ginny finally hesitantly met his gaze, completely unaware of the fact that he most certainly was not angry or hurt by her outburst, and said, with so much sincerity that it startled him, "I'm really sorry!"

She looked up at him imploringly, her eyes losing the evil glint that they possessed when she talked about Ron and widening innocently into her well perfected puppy dog stare.

For extra effect, she pouted, jutting out her lower lip as she gazed up at him, pressing, "You'll forgive me, won't you?"

Harry gaped.

_Lord, but this girl was unpredictable._

And as he continued to watch her as she sweetly wheedled him into accepting her apology, he couldn't help but admit that her spontaneity was one of his favorite things about her.

"Of course," Harry quickly assured her, nodding. "Of course I forgive you. I really wasn't insulted anyway."

Her expression of glee at his pardon quickly fell at his last comment. "Shame," she sighed with a rather childish pout, "I always was rather proud of my scathingly witty insults."

"Oh don't worry," he comforted her jokingly as he leaned across the table to affectionately ruffle her hair. "I happen to think that you come up with scathingly witty deaths for people."

Trying to maintain her pout, Ginny soon surrendered to giggling madly. "You really think so?" she asked brightly, grinning widely. "Why Harry, I'm flattered!"

"Oh yes," he replied, leaning across the table to grab a quill and some parchment from the stack of school materials before Ginny. To pass the time (and appease Ginny), he nonchalantly proposed, "How about we collaborate and write up different versions of Ron's grisly death?"

She clapped her hands together excitedly, her loud squeal of delight making her sound (and look) like a very young child. Jumping up from her seat, she climbed over across the table, happily seating herself in front of Harry. "Oh I know!" she clapped her hands together again, pointing at the piece of parchment as she indicated for him to write. "How about we create an army of charmed kitchen utensils that can both move and spear Ron to death?!"

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him eagerly with that adorable innocent expression.

_Too innocent._

_My god,_ Harry thought in horror, _I've created a monster._

He obediently wrote down her suggestion, looking up to notice as she squealed in joy, tracing the words with her finger.

"And," he suggested, trying to add to the list, "We could push him off his broomstick."

She blinked at him, tilting her head as she sighed pityingly. "Harry," she remarked, "You need to be more creative than that."

He bowed his head in mock shame. "Oh Ginny, I'm sorry," he replied sarcastically, "I don't think I can ever be as sadistic as you."

"Oh well," she giggled, waving it off, "What can I say? It's a gift."

They continued for some time, Harry keeping his comments to himself as Ginny rambled on, her "punishments" for Ron becoming more bizarre (and violent) by the moment.

Two hours and 186 painful deaths later, Harry set down his quill to listen to Ginny as she explained the plan in vivid detail.

"I like hippogriffs!" she randomly burst out with, but quickly continued before Harry could raise a skeptical eyebrow. "How about we gather a herd of hippogriffs and we starve them for a week, and then we coat Ron in barbeque sauce one day and we SHOVE him into a corral with all those hippogriffs and let them at him!"

"Erm..." Harry responded, blinking up at her. "I miss Buckbeak too?"

"Exactly!" she beamed at him delightedly. "You understand exactly how I feel!"

Harry blinked again. "Right," he replied rather unconvincingly. "Right."

They sat in silence for several moments, Harry slightly disturbed while Ginny stared off, contemplating.

_Probably about Ron's mutilated corpse_, Harry thought.

"Harry, love," she suddenly burst out with, startling him slightly with her wide grin, her warm eyes flickering merrily.

He regarded her warily.

She bit her lip in a grin as she widened her eyes slightly.

_That innocent expression._

"You'll help me kill Ron, won't you?"

She makes it sound like she just asked me to bake cookies with her mother.

Slightly disconcerted, Harry stared at her, flustered.

_If I say yes, she'll run out and grab the butcher knife and give it to me, expecting me to stab Ron. If I say no, she'll run out and grab the butcher knife and stab me._

The Boy Who Lived was in quite the quandary.

And so he did the only thing he could think of.

Giving off a slightly strangled yelp, Harry Potter sacrificed his dignity as he darted over to the door and began pounding madly at it, bellowing, "LET ME OUT BEFORE SHE KILLS ME!"

Ginny gawked with a bewildered expression.

_Well,_ she huffed, quite offended. _That was certainly uncalled for._

Five seconds later, as Harry continued to pound on the door frantically, the sound of footsteps was heard coming down the hall. With a click, the door unlocked and quickly opened to reveal a befuddled Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, dear," she addressed him, glancing around the room in confusion, "And Ginny? What have you been doing up here for the past several hours?"

At this she gave Ginny a pointed look.

Ginny stared, cheeks turning red.

_The implications!_

"We weren't doing anything, Mum," she quickly assured her mother, willing herself not to turn any redder. "It was Ron. He locked us up here after lunch."

Harry nodded in confirmation. 

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips together, murmured a sympathetic "poor dears", and stepped out of the room to shout quite menacingly, "RONALD WEASLEY, YOU COME HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

Harry balked slightly as he watched the suddenly intimidating figure of Mrs. Weasley stand, hands on her hips as she glared fiercely at no one in particular.

_So that's where Ginny gets it from_.

A moment later, Ron hesitantly approached the room, cringing when he saw his irate mother. "Hi... Mum," he smiled weakly. "Hi Harry. Hi Ginny. Is anything wrong?"

He was met by three pairs of eyes glaring him down.

He swallowed nervously, flickered a small smile guiltily and...

... Bolted down the hallway as fast as he could!

Mrs. Weasley tsk-ed and walked out of the room, a frown on her face as she continued to bellow menacingly after her son.

Ginny turned to Harry, a mischievous grin lighting up her eyes. "Say, Harry," she smirked. "Do you think we ought to err... thank Ron for locking us in here?"

Despite his better judgment, Harry soon found himself grinning back, drawn into Ginny's homicidal motives towards her beloved older brother. Dangerous yes, but infinitely fascinating. Kind of like one of those insects that flew eagerly towards the bright light, only to be zapped to death a moment later. "You know, Ginny," he replied, "I think our little list might just come in handy right now. 

**Okay, and now I have a story because writing about violent girls reminds me of my middle school days. Anyway, back when I was in middle school (actually, elementary school too) I was a complete nutcase. I _looked_ like the shy little girl, but I had this terribly defensive attitude and would threaten to stab boys who irked me. I distinctly remember days when I would chase them around the playground, pen in hand as I stabbed out at them... and they would scream bloody murder. Ah, childhood.**

**Anyways, I was quite the terror. I knew this one boy, who I would constantly try to stab (because he was irritating and honestly always tried to tease me) and so as revenge, I would regularly call his house when I _knew_ he wasn't home and would ask his mother in a sugary sweet voice if "darling (insert boy's name here) was home?" Because of course, I knew that his mom teased him incessantly about that kind of thing. Evil? Of course! Hahah... anyways, we would constantly be bickering (lightly of course, because in some twisted way we were actually quite close friends) during class, and one day, while we were jokingly kicking and slapping at each other, our classmates accused having been flirting for the past two years.**

**And we were of course, terribly horrified, blushed, denied it all fervently, and almost died of humiliation. And that is my embarrassing story for the day. Love you! **


	4. Die Ron, Die

**My darling reviewers: I have another short little chapter up for you, but at least it didn't take too long. Goodness, in this fic, Harry is such a sweet boy, and Ginny, well Ginny's just scary. But we love her, right?**

**If you want to know about me, ask me questions and I will grant you a little anecdote from my bizarre life (in response to Alexandrea asking for more stories). Otherwise, I don't know what to tell you guys about. **

**Many thanks to: sunflowerchild, insertgoodnamehere, BrownPryde, Harryandginnyforever, and Chantal J. I _loved_ your reviews!**

**kingmaker- LOL. I loveth my paper topic. Actually, I have learned to deal with my over-stressedness with some amount of humor. My friends and I are always like, "Oh last night, I was actually _able_ to go to bed at one in the morning!" and the sad thing is, we're completely serious. Anyways, this chapter is more fun with the extremely violent Ginny, her poor accomplice Harry, and poor Ron, who is frightened out of his wits, and with good reason as well. Hope you enjoy!**

**Ms. Realista- Haha, at your "friend" whom you hated with a passion. And I love Harry dearly too... he's such an adorable boy. Thank you so much for your fantastic review!**

**Alexandrea- Lol. Oh I tried to update as soon as I could, so I hope you like this! It's a short chapter, but alas, twas all I could do. Enjoy!**

**Rebekahek623- You _stabbed _your brother with a _fork_?! Oh my LORD. That's, that's insane! Haha, wow, I bow to your violent self. Hope you like this chapter!**

**SnakeEyesHannah- Oh, your reviews are always so sweet; they make me blush! I'm glad you think I'm funny... Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Reina del Noche- Oh, your review made me feel _very_ special of course! Haha, thanks for reading my story. I love Ginny too, even if she is sadistic and frightening the heck out of the boys. And poor Ron. I agree with you on that. He should've never messed with Ginny. **

**JamieBell- Alas, you are correct. Ginny is one scary, insane girl. But she's a _cute _one, and Harry Potter is madly infatuated with her (he just doesn't know it yet!). So she will lead him to his doom (nods solemnly). Haha, you're hilarious. Yes, maybe Ron could use an epitaph. I promise I'll use it in the story if you write him one! Anyways, thank you for your review. It made me smile. So please read and review this chapter! Oh and in response to your review for Divine Intervention_: I refuse to believe that Remus will be killed_. I _refuse_. That would be the end of the Marauders, and JKR just _can't_ kill off all of the Marauders (Pettigrew does _not_ count). **

**Elvengirl9- Awww (smiles bashfully), I'm glad you admire my inclinations to stab boys. But you yourself were quite the violent one, eh? Spanking a boy on the playground? Oh, Ginny will get past her shyness around Harry while they're united to kill Ron. I promise. **

**Well, reviews would be _much_ appreciated (hint hint). **

The two partners in crime crept stealthily about the Burrow. Ginny had grabbed muggle walkie-talkies from her father's endless supply of muggle items and handed one to Harry, and now they were on the hunt for Ron.

They had split up, of course, deciding that it was the logical thing to do. Ginny was currently prowling about upstairs, while Harry was assigned the first floor.

Harry sat crouched behind one of the kitchen cabinets, peering cautiously around the corner to see whether or not Ron was hidden in the pantry.

"Harry," the crackly sound of Ginny's voice came over the walkie-talkie. "Did you find my pathetic excuse of a brother yet?"

"Nope," he responded with a frustrated sigh as he searched every corner of the pantry and kitchen to no avail. "I've searched the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen, the pantry, and the dining room and haven't found anything."

"Me neither," she replied in disappointment. "I've searched his bedroom, his closet, the twins' bedroom, and I've run up and down the hallway."

Running a hand through his hair, Harry sighed in exasperation as he prowled around downstairs alone. He prodded a flowerpot here; he lifted a rug there, and disappointingly enough, found Ron nowhere. 

Just as he was about to casually make his way to the kitchen (and rummage for something to eat while claiming to "look around" for Ron), Ginny's excited voice came over the walkie-talkie.

"Harry," she whispered excitedly, "I think I found him. I was just about to go to my room to drop off my Potions book, and I heard a noise. Come on up."

And so, obediently, Harry Potter quietly made his way up the stairs and found a grinning Ginny Weasley waiting at the top for him. She brought a finger to her lips silently cautioning him to stay quiet as she tiptoed towards her room, beckoning him to follow.

Harry gulped.

He certainly hadn't missed that sadistic glint in her eye, and he found himself wondering just how Ron had survived for this long living with _that_ girl.

_Not that I would mind living with her_, he mused to himself, and then promptly inwardly berated himself for daring to think that way about his best friend's little sister.

It was scandalous.

_Really_, he continued to convince himself. _I really don't like he that way. Much._

She suddenly stopped right outside her door, placing a slender hand on the doorknob cautiously. He stood close behind her, holding his breath as he peered curiously over her shoulder.

With a swift movement, Ginny turned the doorknob and pushed the door open forcefully. It crashed open with a bang, evoking a shriek from the boy hiding out under her desk.

"You!" Ginny growled, storming into the room dramatically, pointing her finger rigidly at a terrified Ron who was currently cowering under her desk, covering his face with his hands. "You are _dead. _Do you hear me? I'm going to make your life so miserable, you'll wish that I had avada'd you instead."

Ron whimpered, shaking as his eyes darted around the room, trying to find an escape route.  
Harry really couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the poor boy. At this moment, Ginny looked absolutely _terrifying_, arguably more so than the Dark Lord. He glanced over at her again, shuddering at the expression on her face.

Ginny dropped her arm, suddenly standing in a much more relaxed fashion. She smiled briefly, her lips curling upwards as she looked down at her brother, an odd glint in her overly bright eyes. "You just wait," she murmured softly as she took a small step backwards.

And with that, she whisked out of the room with a self-satisfied smile on her lips, without even giving Ron a second glance.

Harry gaped after her.

_What was that all about?_

He presently turned his attention to his best friend who was currently still huddled under the desk looking rather morose.

"Hey Ron," he greeted with a small smile, attempting to cheer him up.

Honestly, even if he _had_ looked them in a small room for hours on end, he really didn't deserve death by extremely violent redheaded witch. That kind of vicious punishment was left to _really_ evil people, like Voldemort.

"Oh this is bad, really bad, really _really_ bad," Ron muttered rapidly, more to himself than to Harry. He stood up, looking around distractedly, seeming to not even take notice of Harry standing right there.

"Erm..." Harry watched his friend pace about agitatedly, wondering what he should do. "Ron?"

Ron ignored him, instead fixing his gaze on the doorway. "Must hide, must hide from her," he muttered to himself, before darting out of the room and down the hall.

Left in the room alone, Harry Potter came to a single conclusion.

Ginny Weasley was a _scary_ girl who was not to be reckoned with. If she could send Ron scampering down the hallway whimpering with fear, then well...

He would have to remember never _ever_ to upset her.

As if on cue, Ginny skipped into the room, grinning mischievously. "Well?" she questioned. "Did he run off, rather afraid?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he replied, then added, "Although he just wasn't 'rather afraid', he seemed to be fearing for his life."

Ginny brought a hand to her mouth, giggling sweetly as her wide, innocent eyes twinkled with glee.

Harry was honestly terrified.

She could look so disarmingly cute as she stood there, gazing at him with those bright eyes.

But the fact was, she was giggling because she wanted to kill Ron.

Scary, scary girl.

"I'm excited," she gushed, looking up at him imploringly. "Aren't you, Harry? We'll make Ron absolutely miserable and sorry that he ever decided to lock us in that room."

She pulled out the sheets of parchment from behind her back, showing him the list of different ways to kill Ron. "If you want," she offered, "We could start going through these and pick our favorites."

Harry gulped.

"I," he stuttered weakly, "I... well you see, I, erm, I don't know."

Ginny sighed. "I understand, Harry," she assured, much to his surprise. She crossed her arms, looking at him in her unique, confident way. "You don't want to make Ron absolutely miserable because he's you're best friend."  
"Erm," he ran a hand through his hair, searching for an articulate answer. "Yeah, something like that."

"Oh don't worry!" she chirped cheerfully, tilting her head to look up at him. "I just plan to make him squirm a bit. I don't have a plan yet, anyway. For now, we're just going to start whispering furtively every time he comes near, and I'll shoot him secretive smiles whenever he looks my way. Trust me," she smirked, "he'll be terribly paranoid."

Harry certainly didn't doubt that.

The more he thought it over, the better the plan sounded. Ron had decided to anger them, and now he would pay.

It was all in good fun, really.

"Sounds good," he grinned, relieved to know that he wouldn't be forced to kill his best friend in some brutally bloody way.

He couldn't help but smile a bit as he thought of painful death #17, which had been contrived, of course, by the ever-creative Ginny.

_#17- Tape all of the times Ron has complained about homework or ordered a house elf to do something. Show the tape to Hermione._

"Alright," Ginny smiled back at him, taking a step to his side to boldly link her arm with his.

Harry tried desperately not to blush.

Thankfully, Ginny didn't notice at all. "Come on, now," she declared cheerily, "All this scheming has worked up my appetite. Harry," she ordered, turning her face to look at him, "Won't you escort me to the kitchen?"

And as Harry dutifully complied, he couldn't help but think:

_Ginny Weasley will be the death of me. _


End file.
